


Infected

by everywintersbreath



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Monsters, note the archive warning, sort of like a zombie au but not entirely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 04:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15655440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everywintersbreath/pseuds/everywintersbreath
Summary: Seongwoo spends so many nights almost slamming his head into his desk in frustration that he starts looking like Minhyun, the bags under his eyes as dark as the thoughts in his head. There’s not enough time, never enough time. Seongwoo feels hopeless.





	Infected

**Author's Note:**

> wow i save all of my experimental writing for this pairing

They meet in the alleyway behind the Fifth Avenue Grocers every Thursday night.

It’s uncomfortable, wet, and way too dark to see pretty much anything. There are almost always vermin present, usually the kind of nasty, way too big rats that Seongwoo detests because they’re impossible to scare off. Still, it serves its purpose. There’s no chance that anyone will walk by for those very reasons. 

Seongwoo sits on one of the empty crates that the owner of the store has left out for far too long, the wood emitting a moldy smell that Seongwoo can’t help but wrinkle his nose at. Usually, it would be Minhyun turning up his nose as this sort of thing but the other stands among the filth now as if he belongs there. It’s sad, Seongwoo thinks, remembering how completely anal Minhyun used to get about dirt in the apartment. 

Minhyun stares at him, eyes sunken, the bags under them noticeable in the very faint light floating over from the populated street. Frankly, he looks like hell. “So,” Seongwoo starts, tapping his fingers awkwardly against the wood before remembering how disgusting it is and snapping his arms back into his lap. “How are you?”

Minhyun’s glare (fondly dubbed the Seongwoo Is An Idiot stare by yours truly) is still the same as it used to be despite how much he’s changed physically. Seongwoo laughs nervously, really considering diving headfirst into the nearby gutter which he can hear draining the murky street-water. 

“I don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting,” Minhyun says dryly. “I feel like complete garbage. Everything that could go wrong with my body is going wrong and I’m turning into some sort of real-life creature from the black lagoon.” 

Seongwoo regards him carefully, unable to properly examine him in this lighting. “If it makes you feel better,” he starts. “I don’t think you look like the creature from the black lagoon. More like a slightly green Hank from Scooby Doo.”

“That’s just you calling me an old man again,” Minhyun mutters, long-suffering. Seongwoo smiles over at him, happy that at least a little bit of tension has been taken from Minhyun’s shoulders. “So,” he starts more seriously, leaning forwards. 

“I was doing a lot of research and it looks like you’re not the only one this is happening to.” Seongwoo didn’t find any actually helpful information from his “research”, like a cure, but Minhyun doesn’t need to know that just yet. Seongwoo shifts his balance, feeling his pants start to get wet. “Was your “research” just turning on the TV?” Minhyun asks dryly, clearly not impressed.

Seongwoo fiddles with the holes in the denim near his knees. “That first part was mostly a joke. I actually found several accounts from people like you who died. All of them seemed to live for around two months after first showing symptoms, so we still have a few weeks to find a cure for you.”

Minhyun lowers his head, probably biting at his lip. He should really stop doing that. “And what happened once they died?” Minhyun asks quietly, although Seongwoo’s almost one hundred percent sure he already knows the answer. “They became monsters.” 

Minhyun takes a deep breath in, looking back up at Seongwoo. Seongwoo gets up immediately, getting up and going to hug him despite the strange residue Minhyun’s skin leaves on his own. “Don’t cry,” he murmurs comfortingly. “My Hwang Minhyunnie doesn’t cry unless the last cat calendar is gone from Bed Bath and Beyond during the Christmas sale.”

Minhyun sniffles out a small laugh, clearly distraught. Seonwoo pats his back, stepping up to kiss his forehead. “Listen,” he starts. “I’m going to love you even if you really start looking like Godzilla, okay? That won’t happen though, because we’ll find a cure, even if I have to make it myself.”

Minhyun nods back. “Yeah, shit, sorry. I’m just, I’m scared.”

Seongwoo frowns over his shoulder. Since when does Minhyun cuss? That’s his job. This is really messing with him. “Don’t be sorry, okay? It’s good to cry sometimes, just let it out.”

The other awkwardly pushes him off, wiping at his own eyes. “Thanks, Seongwoo. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Seongwoo replies, figuring from his words that their little meeting is over. “If anything comes up between now and next Thursday, come by my apartment or call me, authorities be damned.”

 

 

 

 

 

Seongwoo and Minhyun have been very careful about keeping Minhyun hidden out of a paranoia that people with his condition with be put in quarantine. It’s a suspicion that comes true four days after the last meeting, Daniel handing Seongwoo a newspaper at work with a bold headline asking all of the infected to turn themselves in. Seongwoo blanches, grabbing his phone and texting Minhyun to meet him in the alleyway that night.

When Seongwoo gets there, Minhyun’s panicking, because of course he is. “I can’t disobey the police, Seongwoo!” Minhyun says in a whisper-shout. Seongwoo sighs. “Minhyun, they’ll hurt you. You won’t be able to see me. They’re going to lock you up because they’re scared of you. This isn’t what you want.”

Minhyun just looks at him and Seongwoo sighs. “We already know it's not contagious, and they should too. I would have caught it way before now if it was.” 

The other man sits down on the crate Seongwoo had earlier, putting his face in his hands. Seongwoo notices the skin on his hands is blackened and peeling, looking more like special effects makeup than anything that could be possible in real life. Seongwoo feels his gut tighten. He can’t cry in front of Minhyun. He can’t.

“Seongwoo,” Minhyun says, gaining his attention. Seongwoo swallows the lump in his throat. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

 

 

 

 

 

As the weeks go on, Seongwoo gets more and more desperate, searching everywhere for a cure. He doesn’t go to work and ignores everyone’s calls, locking himself up in his room and scouring every site on the internet. He’s pretty sure he’s going to get fired, but if Minhyun lives it doesn’t matter at all to him. 

There are so many people clearly in the same boat that Seongwoo really starts to hate the unfairness of this cursed disease. Part of the issue is that no one knows how it’s spread. It doesn’t seem to be contagious, but more and more people have it each day so how can it not be? 

Seongwoo spends so many nights almost slamming his head into his desk in frustration that he starts looking like Minhyun, the bags under his eyes as dark as the thoughts in his head. There’s not enough time, never enough time. Seongwoo feels hopeless. 

 

 

 

 

 

The last Thursday that Seongwoo meets him is the day Minhyun’s supposed to die. Seongwoo brings him into his apartment, not caring that Minhyun’s trailing gunk all over his carpets or that his face is scaly or that his eyes are overshadowed by their bulging frames. 

OK, maybe he does care a lot about all of those things, but he sure as hell isn’t going to show it. He pushes Minhyun down onto his couch, climbing into his lap and burying his face in Minhyun’s dirty shoulder. Minhyun pats his back this time, exhaling deeply. “Seongwoo, you have to kill me,” he murmurs,

Seongwoo shakes his head violently, moving back to press a kiss against Minhyun’s scaly lips. “No,” he starts, suddenly bawling. “No, no, no, I can’t.” 

Minhyun twitches. “Seongoo,” he mispronounces, words already slurring. “Have to.”

Seongwoo stares at him, and then shakes his head again, burying his tear-stained face in Minhyun’s shuddering shoulder. He doesn’t care at this point. The other keeps trying to talk, trying to push him away, movements increasingly feeble and uncontrolled. 

It takes Minhyun’s teeth biting through the flesh of his shoulder for Seongwoo to realize that he’s really, truly gone. 

Seongwoo faints.

**Author's Note:**

> mr ong i don't feel so good
> 
> thank you for reading <3
> 
> feedback is appreciated


End file.
